


No One Subs Like Gaston

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, I made Disney porn, I'm guaranteed a spot now, Oral, Smut, What Have I Done, dom!reader, sub!Gaston, the climax of my descent into hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 14:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10388322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Set after the film, MILD SPOILERS (but who doesn’t know the ending of Beauty And The Beast, right?) the reader shows Gaston that life goes on. PWP basically. Smut, desecration of a Disney character, light BDSM, sub!Gaston, dom!reader, this is the culmination of my descent into Hell, but it’s been a fucking awesome ride. I’m not sure if it qualifies as crack!fic, but it’s fun as hell.





	

 

He’d been nursing the same tankard for at least an hour, sat in the corner of the empty tavern, a far cry from the bold and brash man who’d dominated the fire place a few weeks before. You weren’t oblivious to the changes in the village since whatever magic had restored everyone’s memory.

Now there was a castle, and a Prince, a spell broken by the odd girl Belle, who’d lived on the outskirts her entire life, much like you. Only for  _ very  _ different reasons. Belle was beautiful, charming, well read and the perfect good girl.

You were mysterious, alluring and a very,  _ very _ bad girl.

Gaston sighed, his body hunching in even more, and you watched him as you cleaned out glasses. Everyone else in the village was at the ball being thrown by the Prince and his future bride - you hadn’t quite forgiven the taxes that had almost put your family on the streets years before the curse. So you’d offered to stay behind, just in case any other lost souls decided to forgo the grand celebration.

“Can I get you another?” you called, and Gaston looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours across the empty tavern. A log crackled and popped in the fire, and you smiled, filling a jug with mead and crossing the space to the corner he’d chosen for the night. “Here. On the house.”

His expression was curious as you topped up his tankard, a few suds escaping over the brim and down the side. “Why are you talking to me?” he asked, focusing those dark eyes on you as you set the jug of mead down on the table. “Surely you know what I have done, why I am sat here alone -”

You chuckled, reaching over to run one finger around the rim of his tankard, bringing the sud-covered digit to your lips and sucking them off seductively. “I know exactly what you’ve done, Gaston. And I don’t care.”

Gaston blinked, his top lip curling in a little sneer of confusion, and your smile widened. “I’ve heard tales of you.”

“Pray tell, what tales?” you purred, leaning in, letting your cleavage rest on your hands, giving it a little boost. Gaston’s eyes flicked down for the briefest of seconds, but you knew you had him. “That I live alone? That I’m a witch?” You leaned in a little more, still smiling, and Gaston visibly held his breath. “Or that I’m a very  _ bad _ girl?”

He swallowed, his fingers reaching to grab his tankard, and you watched the long digits flex around the pewter. The shift in his posture didn’t go unmissed, and you wondered just how hard he was under the table.

“I’ve heard the other men… they… they say that you are… a… woman of ill repute.”

You laughed, and Gaston’s lips quirked upwards. “Oh, Gaston. I am indeed a woman of ill repute. No husband. No family. Just me in that big house, all alone.” Your fingernails scraped against his skin as you reached forward and clasped his hand. “And you sat here all alone.” His adam’s apple bobbed again, and you drew back. “But if you want to continue drinking your misery -” You moved to get up, and Gaston’s hand snatched out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“No, please!” His tone was a little desperate, and you paused, looking back at him with an arched eyebrow. “It’s been a while since I have spoken to anyone. The villagers… despise me.” He looked down at his drink, looking crestfallen. “Even Lefou has shunned my companionship, and…” The sigh he gave was almost heartbreaking, and you retook your seat opposite him, feeling a little thrill when he didn’t release his hold on you. “I do not blame a single one of them.”

“Gaston…” you purred. “I would not shun you. I do not share the common love for royalty. Everyone is basking in the return of the Prince, but I…” The smile you gave made Gaston stare unabashedly at your plump lips. “I have something that may lift your spirits.” You stood up, pulling your wrist through his fingers to slip free. “Let me douse the fire. No one else will come to the tavern tonight.”

Gaston frowned. “You mean for me to accompany you?”

The smile you gave him was lascivious and Gaston swallowed, not even bothering to hide his arousal as he stood. “Do you find that too scandalous, Gaston? Accompanying an unmarried woman home?”

“I do not believe I could tarnish my image any further, Miss Y/N,” he responded, his eyes sweeping over the tight fitting corset you wore. “But I would like to know what it is that has attracted your interest.”

You giggled, moving to the fire and dousing it with the bucket of soil kept to the side. Gaston waited, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him adjust his britches to try and fend off the discomfort of his growing erection. “Because, Gaston, I believe you would be very good at following orders.”

He groaned, and you straightened, scanning the bar quickly to make sure everything was fine. Gaston didn’t protest as you took his significantly larger hand, lifting it to your mouth and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. He watched, licking his lips, before allowing you to pull him from the tavern into the dark and abandoned village streets.

Your house was only a five minute walk, but it was difficult to contain the urge to mount him like a stallion in the middle of the cobbled walkway, and as both of you moved, Gaston moved in closer, until his arm was around your waist. When the both of you finally approached your house, you looked around to see if anyone in the village was present.

“Are you worried someone will see us?” he asked, smirking, and you turned, not protesting when he pressed you up against the wooden door of your house. “I thought you did not care for reputation, Y/N.”

“It did not take you long to drop the propriety of titles, Gaston,” you replied, unable to resist running a hand over his thick pectoral muscles. “But if you address me from here on, you will call me “Mistress”.”

Gaston’s thick neck convulsed as he swallowed nervously, and for a second you thought he might reject the idea, that he’d cling to the macho manly identity he’d carved out for so long in the village.

Then he nodded, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, Mistress,” he breathed, and your heart plain stopped.

Your hand scrabbled behind you, seeking purchase on the doorknob, turning it to let both of you stumble into the house. Gaston’s fingers were on your waist, and you didn’t protest as he tugged at the strings of your corset. Getting the damn thing off after a long day was exceptionally relieving, and Gaston made quick work of removing it.

“Let me set the hearth,” you ordered, as your corset fell to the floor. 

“Allow me,” he offered, and you smiled, hooking one finger in his coat collar to pull him close, meeting his lips. He tasted like mead and meat, and your groans mingled with his. When you parted, he was practically panting, but he pulled away to move to the hearth, removing his outer coat and folding it gingerly over the large cushioned chair next to the mantle.

Five minutes later, and the fire was roaring - you couldn’t doubt his talent with getting a fire going. He’d certainly got one going in your loins, and that was simply by acknowledging his obedience to you.

Gaston turned to you, down on one knee as he turned from the flames, smiling at you. “What now, Mistress?”

A smile tweaked your expression, and you smoothed down your skirts with one hand. “I knew I had chosen the right man. You spent so long with women falling at your feet, and now you are going to fall at mine.” He didn’t protest, and you moved forward, pushing your skirts down until they pooled at your ankles. Stepping out of them, Gaston dropped his other knee at the sight of you in nothing but high stockings, a garter belt and lace underwear the likes of which he’d never seen. High heels and the silk vest you’d worn under your corset for comfort accompanied the look, and the large man in front of you sucked in a hard breath.

“You are a sight to behold, Mistress.”

“Yes, I am,” you whispered. “And you are going to worship me, Gaston. Are you prepared to do that?” He nodded enthusiastically, and you lifted one heeled foot, placing it on his shoulder, pressing in just enough to make him wince. “Take your shirt off. Show me that chiselled chest.”

Gaston nodded again, his thick fingers flying to the buttons on his shirt, practically ripping them off in eagerness to obey you. You dropped your foot, trying not to dribble at the sight of his bare chest, the roundness of his muscles and his perky wide nipples, nestled amongst a bed of wiry black hair. The sudden urge to lick him came over you, but you refrained, watching as he removed the clothing in its entirety, kneeling before you in only boots and britches. The cotton over his cock was barely containing his erection, and you licked your lips in ravenous arousal.

“I bet your tongue is as thick as your cock, isn’t it, Gaston?” He growled as you stepped closer, smiling. “Lay on the floor for me. I want you to show me how good your tongue is.”

He obeyed without question, and the thrill of control ran through you as you unhooked your garter belt and flung it off, pushing the lace that covered your mound down around your ankles, stepping out of them gingerly. Gaston groaned loudly as you placed your feet either side of his head.

“Just tell me if it gets too much for you,” you whispered, slowly sinking down until your pussy covered his mouth and chin, his nose pressing against the skin between your pussy and ass. Gaston wasted no time, thrusting his tongue up into you, and you whimpered at the touch, feeling how thick and flexible the organ was. “Oh god, Gaston, yes!”

He snarled against you, one hand coming around your front to seek out your clit, and you didn’t reprimand him, knowing that this was likely his first encounter with a woman in control. For the moment, you were content feeling his thick tongue thrust into you with such vigor, and you mewled loudly, leaning forward to run your fingers through his chest hair, stopping to pinch and tweak his nipples. Gaston groaned into your cunt, his tongue picking up speed, and you continued to tease him, enjoying the noises he made against you.

“That’s it, Gaston, good boy,” you cried, leaning even further forward to push his britches down over his swollen cock and heavy balls. He was larger than you’d expected, thicker than any man you’d encountered before, and you were practically salivating at the thought of having him buried inside you so deep you’d feel it for a week. “Oh look at this beauty,” you gasped, jerking forward as his tongue touched on parts you’d never felt a man’s tongue touch. “Such a beast, Gaston. I cannot wait to have you pound this into me.”

“At your wish, Mistress,” he mumbled, the words muffled against your soaked cunt, and you opened your mouth to reply, only to cry out as small shockwaves rocked your body, and your pussy clenched. Gaston obviously recognised the signs of impending orgasm and you squealed loudly as he tripled his efforts.

Your orgasm was almost blinding, and you ground against Gaston’s mouth without restraint, riding it out on his tongue. He kept licking at you, slowing his pace, making them long strokes to keep the fire stoked until you were done.

When the buzz in your veins subsided, you slumped forward, as Gaston smirked triumphantly between your thighs. His big hands rested on your ass, stroking and squeezing in a way that made you smile.

“I think you earned this,” you mumbled, pushing up enough to slip your lips over the tip of his thick, long cock. Gaston groaned, his hips jerking up off of the floor as you sucked him into your mouth eagerly, only getting about a third of way before his cock hit the back of your throat. His fingers curled into your ass cheeks, and a few seconds later, you felt his tongue at your pussy again.

Gaston certainly knew how to play the game.

With fervour, you took more of his cock into your mouth, using one hand to hold the base and the other to slide under his sac, cupping it as much as you could. Fuck, the size of them signified that when he came, you’d feel it all the way to your toes, and your pussy clenched at the thought. Gaston moaned at the dual sensations on his cock and balls, and you smiled around the dick in your mouth.

“Yes, Mistress,” he grunted, and you pushed down, trying to fit more of his copious manhood between your lips, willing down your gag reflex as he slid into your throat. The noises he was making were filthy and sinful and a dream come true. “Mistress, please -” he stopped speaking, giving a strangled cry, and you immediately pulled away.

“You are not coming in my mouth tonight, Gaston,” you informed him, still jerking his cock with your fingers, marvelling at the way you could barely touch the tips together around him. “I want you buried in my pussy - I want you to service me.” You smiled over your shoulder at him. “Do you understand?”

He gasped for breath. “Yes, Mistress. Not in your mouth,” he repeated, groaning with loss as you sat up, releasing his cock, and getting to your feet.

“Come with me,” you whispered, and Gaston got to his feet, almost tripping at the restriction of his britches around his thighs. He stripped them and his boots quickly, following you as you headed for the stairs, naked as the day he was born. His eyes were glued on your ass as he followed you up to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as you lay on the mattress, pulling your knees up high so he could see your glistening pussy. “Service me, Gaston. I want to feel every inch of that glorious horse cock buried in me.”

Gaston snarled, his face flushed and red, veins and muscles standing out as he crossed the room in two strides, his big hands gripping your thighs and pushing them backwards, opening you up wider. His cock bobbed, before he rutted against you, the thick head of his dick spreading your pussy lips.

“Don’t stall, baby,” you purred. “I can take it.”

He grinned, pushing his cock against your soaked hole, the first inch splitting you wide, and you whined loudly. Gaston grunted, rocking back and forth, pushing a little more in each time and the torment was exquisite.

“Fuck me, Gaston.” The desperate cry left your lips a split second before Gaston thrust forward,  _ hard _ , impaling you on the full length of his huge cock, the head of it slamming into your deepest parts with enough force that you thought he may actually break you.  You reached up, clinging to his shoulders and he started to ram you into the mattress, not holding back and giving you exactly what you wanted. You screamed, nails almost breaking the skin on his shoulders as you clutched at him.

“Yes, Mistress,” he panted, sweat breaking out on his forehead, his hair messy and falling into his face as he braced himself with his hands against the bed, his wide hips holding you open. You knew there would bruises tomorrow, and more in the future, but there was no way you were ever giving up this precious find.

“I’m going to come, Gaston. Do you want to come?” He nodded at your question, his hips stuttering and you grinned, before letting your back arch naturally at the need to climax. “Make me come, Gaston. Fill me with your hot spunk.”

He almost roared, neck thick with veins and skin flushed red, his teeth gritted together and he fucked you harder and harder, your body spasming around him. You couldn’t help but come with a scream of pleasure, and Gaston followed you over, pumping load after load of thick come into your pussy, his head dropping to rest between your breasts.

You smiled widely as your orgasm subsided, grasping his head between your hands, running your fingers through his thick dark hair. Dragging his head up, you enjoyed the lazy smile on his face, wondering how far you’d be able to push his willingness to obey.

“Did I please you, Mistress?” he asked, pressing soft kisses to the swell of your breasts.

Gaston learned quickly, apparently. Your smile took over your entire expression as you nodded, gleeful in anticipation of the future with your new servant.

“You did, Gaston. You certainly did.”


End file.
